


Reapercussions

by TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Ball gowns, F/M, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, OC as a plot device, Reapers, Reapers are the best hands down, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:07:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds/pseuds/TumblingTroublesomeTumbleweeds
Summary: Grell Sutcliff tries her best to not admit her true feelings for Will, even to herself, until she witnesses a similar situation and is forced to confront them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It makes me sad there are hardly any female reapers that are shown on screen, much less strong female reapers, and I feel like Grell would appreciate a mentor of sorts. So a mentor was created. Also the reapers need their own spin-off show because they’re the best part.

Goood moooorning!” Grell Sutcliff bounded into the office cheerily. The other reapers groaned audibly, only half-awake.

She was not much of a morning person either, but she so delighted in the pained grimaces of her colleagues whenever she was so cheerful, so she forced herself to be.

“Good morning Ronnie dear,” she ruffled the hair of her junior, Ronald Knox. He groaned from where his head was buried in his arms.

“Sutcliff-senpaaai,” he mumbled, “it’s eight on a Monday morning...please...”

“Look chipper Ronnie dear!” Grell cooed, “coffee, coffee, coffee,” she hummed, dancing around the coffee pot.

“How can she be so fucking chirpy,” Eric Slingby groused.

“I stopped asking how Sutcliff-senpai can be so anything a long time ago,” Ronald sighed.

A snore sounded from Alan Humphries’ desk,

Grell downed her coffee before it even cooled, relishing the pain. She bounded down the hall.

“Ohh Wiiill darling!” she pushed on his office door, “good morning!” she chirped, sitting on his desk.

“Sutcliff,” William T. Spears looked up at her, unimpressed, “please get off my desk and get to work”

“But Wiiiill, I want to hear about your weekend,” she covered his papers with her hand. He hardly batted an eyelash as he stabbed his pen into her hand. 

She let out a yelp, cradling her hand to her chest and quivering her lip.

“Oh William, why are you so cruel?” she whimpered, “that’s no way to treat a lady!”

“Why are you still on my desk?” he countered, “that’s no way to treat a supervisor”

Grell grumbled but made no move to move.

Will shot his scythe out, opening the door, using it to grab Grell by her collar and unceremoniously depositing her out the door before closing it.

“Wiiiill,” she whined at the door, tapping it, “so heartless,” she swooned, “such a cold, cruel man...it burns a fire inside me that can only be quenched by your thick...” she yelped as the tip of his scythe pierced the wood. 

“Piercing the door like I wish you would pierce my body,” she sighed dramatically, “Requisitions won’t be happy!” Grell sing-songed, scampering down the hall before Will could do it again.

She pouted as she wandered back to her cubicle. The other reapers were slightly more lively after some coffee.

Ronald was chatting with Eric. Alan was still sleeping at his desk.

Margaret Andrews and Arthur Wallace were flirting by the coffee machine. Grell wondered when they would just sleep together. Cut down on a LOT of the tension. She stretched, popping her back.

George Brown was emerging from the loo. His curly blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail.

Black, black, black.

She yawned, glancing at her desk. Red, red, red.

So much more lively than the dull black and white existence of reapers.

She sat in her chair, propped her feet up, tugged off her gloves and began to paint her nails. She hummed a song under her breath.

Ronald peered at her from his cubicle before practically slithering back down to snooze a little more before their first reap at ten.

Plenty of time to recoat all her nails. After all, a lady had to always look her best, and her beautiful death scythe did have the unfortunate habit of being rough on her nails.

Red, red, red.


	2. Chapter 2

“Where did all this paper come from?” Lawrence Anderson frowned, returning to the office of his workshop. He had to have been gone less than five minutes, checking on a display pair, and it was definitely not there when he left.

A brunette head peeked up from the pile.

“Hullo!”

“Catherine,” he sighed, “why are you here? And what is all this?”

“Paperwork, what does it look like?” Catherine Randall. Department Head of the Retrieval Division and his best friend for centuries.

Also, the bane of his existence most of the time.

“Why is it here?”

“Cause I’m here”

“Why are you here?”

“My office is lonely”

Lawrence sighed, “can you at least contain it?” Catherine’s head bobbed and the papers shuffled into one corner of the desk. “Thank you,” he sat down and began to work.

They worked in silence for several minutes before they heard a commotion.

They exchanged a glance before poking their heads out to check.

Off-key singing could be heard throughout the glasses workshop.

“Sutcliff-senpai! Please stop singing!”

“I’m just so happy my darling Will is here!”

“But must you sing?”

The noise was coming from a pair of reapers attached to a coterie of reapers in training.

“Caaatherine, daaarling!” the voice echoed through the workshop, startling several reapers, including Lawrence.

“Grell,” Catherine laughed, “who in the seven hells put you in charge of junior reapers? What is Personnel thinking?”

“I’m not,” she giggled, “I’m observing my dearest Will,” she waggled her eyebrows, “I don’t do children”

“Miss Randall,” William said, looking slightly put-out.

“Spears,” she smiled, peering at the cluster of reapers. Even if the glasses did not give it away, the wide-eyed expressions definitely did, “new recruits?”

“Yes ma’am”

“Ah ah,” she shook her finger. Lawrence shook his head.

“Yes Catherine”

“Better,” she smiled, “ma’am makes me sound like a geriatric...while we are up there in age, I like to think we’re not that old, right Lawrence?”

Lawrence peered at her, unamused.

“Lucky, lucky,” Grell cooed, “you lot get to meet two department heads...this is the Department Head of Spectacles, Lawrence Anderson, we all call him Pops...and my favorite darling, Catherine Randall, Department Head of Retrieval. If Lawrence is Pops, then Catherine is Mum”

“They’re legendary reapers!” a dark-haired reaper said in a not-so hushed whisper, “he makes all the reapers glasses and she has the most reaps of any other!”

“So don’t call me Mum unless you wish to be reaped where you stand,” she said with a sweet smile. The junior reapers huddled together fearfully. Lawrence bit back a snort of laughter.

“Moving on...” Ronald gestured anxiously.

“Byeee,” Grell waggled her fingers at Catherine. The brunette laughed and returned the wave. They watched as Grell winked at one of the reapers looking for glasses, who ended up becoming so flustered he accidentally snapped the pair he was holding.

Lawrence frowned. Catherine snickered.

“I don’t know why you let that Sutcliff character slide so often,” Lawrence grumbled, not looking up from the glasses he was working on.

Catherine laughed, leaning back in her chair.

“Oh, Lawrence, dear,” she grinned tilting it back on its back legs, “you know I have a fondness for the odd ones...and a little bit of rebelliousness doesn’t hurt. Nothing like a little red to brighten up our dreary existence”

“I would have thought _he_ would have quelled your fondness for rulebreaking”

Catherine sighed, her chair hitting the ground on all four legs, “yes, well, that was entirely different...besides, I’m not going to be dating Miss Sutcliff anytime soon,” she hummed, “although I can’t say I’d be opposed to the idea...” she said cheekily.

Lawrence gave her another unimpressed stare over the rims of his glasses. She smiled brightly at him.

“Please don’t date your subordinates. It’s frowned upon,” Catherine grinned at him gleefully, “besides, you get attached and then you get your heart broken regardless of whether you’re dating them or not”

“Well, that’s how I ended up spending the rest of my existence with a stuffpuff like you,” she teased fondly, “you’d never break my heart”

“Stuffpuff isn’t a real word,” Lawrence shook his head, trying to shake the concern he felt for her, “don’t you have something to be doing?”

“Nope! Will is so good at his job, very rarely do I have to get involved anymore...” she peered out the door, “Lar?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever just see someone and think they just need help?”

“Well, I’ve been friends with you for centuries”

“Mean. I’m being serious.”

Lawrence sighed, putting down the glasses, “I don’t know what you mean”

“Grell...” Catherine rested her chin in her hand, “she’s...confident, passionate, brash...but I sense an odd insecurity about her”

“You keep referring to him as her...why?”

“Because she sees herself as a woman,” Catherine frowned at him, “you’re not so callous you would disregard how she feels about it, are you? I thought better of you”

Lawrence’s sighed, rubbing his brow.

“As long as Sutcliff does the job I guess it doesn’t matter; man, woman, both, neither...” he looked thoughtful, “he...she’s complimented my glasses before”

Catherine laughed.

“Oh Lawrence,” she ruffled his hair, he pulled away with a grimace, “you’re precious. I just feel like she needs a mentor, of sorts...she’s right, you know; men are men. While you’re good fun - well, at least sometimes - you don’t understand...sometimes women just need another woman to bitch with. I feel like she’s lonely”

“Perhaps,” Lawrence shrugged, putting the finishing touches on the pair of glasses, “she is a little odd”

“And we weren’t?” Catherine queried.

“You definitely are”

“Hey. At least I didn’t run off with my death scythe and leave everyone else behind,” she laughed. She glanced at the clock, “shit. I should probably go...” she piled her paperwork in a box, _so that’s how she brought it in_ , and got to her feet, “I’ll bug you tomorrow!” she said cheerfully, heading for the door.

“Cat,” Lawrence called, “you weren’t the only one whose heart he broke”

Catherine lingered in the doorway, grip tightening on the frame.

“I know,” she murmured, not glancing back.

Lawrence felt a long-forgotten ache in his chest. Shaking his head, he returned to his work.

.....

Grell finished the tour.

She knew full well she was no help whatsoever, but she could not find it in herself to care any less.

She just liked spending time with Will. It seemed like they hardly spent any time together. After that first reap - even the memory sent tingles through Grell’s body - they had formed, not necessarily a close friendship, but a friendship.

And a one-sided crush on Grell’s side.

A crush that slowly developed into more over time.

Exactly what that “more” was, Grell did not particularly feel like investigating, it was probably better for her sanity that it remain unrealized.

She watched Will emerge from the loo, pulling his gloves on. She wanted to know whether his hands were soft. He seemed like the type to view something such as moisturizing as a nuisance, but he was also extremely appearance cautious, so it could be.

Grell imagined Will’s strong hands, because of course they would be strong, Grell would never be attracted to a weak-handed man, she imagined them running along her body, fingertips leaving trails against her skin, gripping her firmly, she wondered if Will used his nails; leaving long furrows down her back and her sides that she would feel for days to come...

“Grell-senpai!”

Grell glanced down.

Oh.

Blood had puddled on her desk. She had given herself a nosebleed. She snagged a handful of tissues, winking at Ronald.

“Thank you Ronnie, love, it’s much appreciated,” she said.

Ronald nodded, disappearing behind his cubicle with one last curious glance.

Grell sank back into her daydreams.

Of Will, holding her by the fireplace, his warm, strong arms holding her tightly as she dozed. He would probably read a book, or do paperwork, considering the man could never stop working. He would probably be the type to brush her hair for her, it could be their little ritual, she so did love having her hair brushed.

Or Grell cooking dinner for him. They could occasionally take different days off, and she would have a warm meal ready for him, she would wear her red apron, maybe nothing but her red apron.

Or they could take the same day off and go sightseeing. Maybe go to a fair, he would take her on a Ferris Wheel and kiss her at the top. Or a circus, where they could sneak cotton candy flavored kisses from each other.

Her thoughts skidded to a halt.

Where did all this domestic fluff come from?

What happened to her steamy, sexy fantasies? The ones where he would tie her up and have his way with her? Or bend her over the desk in his office and take her despite the risk of someone walking in.

Instead, she was thinking of romantic walks, cuddling before bed.

She shook herself, feeling unusually morose.

She watched Catherine walk back to her office with a box of paperwork.

Perfect.

The elder shinigami had become a mentor of sorts, she would even go so far as to consider her like an older sister.

Catherine frequently offered her advice developed from centuries of life experience.

Why the Department Head had taken such an interest in her, Grell would probably never know, but it was nice to have another woman to confide in.

The other female reapers she worked with were very mundane, besides, most of them did not really seem to want much to do with her.

She was too red for their boring little black and white worlds.

Catherine was not exactly red, but she was not black and white either.

Maybe pink, a dark pink.

She wandered over to Catherine’s office, pushing open the door.

Catherine glanced up and waved before returning to what she was doing.

Grell settled in the chair she mentally deemed ‘hers’. She pulled out her nail file and began working on her nails.

.....

Catherine glanced up when Grell had entered. She knew immediately the younger reaper was bothered by something because she did not get her usual cheerful greeting.

She continued her paperwork, saying nothing, letting them sit in silence. She had learned the red reaper was not fond of silence and usually Catherine would find out what was bothering Grell by allowing the silence to boil. Sometimes it took a little while, but usually it was pretty fast.

The more something was bothering her, the longer it would take.

“Have you ever been in love?” Grell asked, suddenly serious, “like really in love?”

Twenty pages. So it was a real problem.

Catherine looked at her.

“Why do you ask?” she hummed, idly filling out the form. She had done it a million times, it was second-nature at this point.

“Love is such a beautiful concept,” Grell was filing her nails, “so romantic. I mean, Love is associated with the color red, with passion, beautiful...at least it’s supposed to be”

Catherine sighed. She set down her pen and regarded her. The other woman was lounging in a chair in front of Catherine’s desk. She should probably be doing work, but Catherine would let William reprimand her. She did not feel like it. Besides, as manager, she got the privilege of delegation.

“I was. Once. A long time ago”

“What happened?”

Catherine thought back to the last day she had seen him. Her and Lawrence pleading with him not to go.

She had always known he would break her heart.

“He...left,” she shrugged.

“Really?” Grell looked intrigued.

“I do hope you haven’t gone and fallen in love with that demon you’re always gushing about”

“No...Sebby is merely...a very attractive man. A man whose babies I would give anything to have,” she swooned, “I imagine he would ravish me...rough and hard...” she flushed, clasping her hands to her chest, “but Sebas-chan would make a terrible boyfriend...”

“Yes. I imagine the whole “demon” aspect makes that difficult,” Catherine said dryly. Grell hummed noncommittally, returning to buffing her nails, “so who is it?” she prodded the red reaper with the end of her pen.

Grell suddenly got shy, so unlike her. Catherine was genuinely intrigued.

“Well...” she sighed dramatically, “it’ll probably never happen. He thinks I’m nothing more than a nuisance,” she held a hand to her forehead, “he does _not_ know how to treat a lady _whatsoever_. He’s so cruel and cold and so handsome...he’s like a block of ice I want to melt with my fiery red passion!”

“A reaper?” Catherine queried, stamping her paper. The big issue she had with being Department Head was the paperwork doubled. She had been Department Head for nearly a century and it never got better.

“Yes”

“Retrieval?” she started on another paper.

“Yeeees”

“Don’t tell me,” Catherine sat up, pinning the red reaper with her gaze, “William”

Grell squealed, blushing darkly and hiding her face in her jacket.

Catherine snorted.

Of course.

“I suppose that’s technically frowned on,” Catherine laughed, “considering he is your supervisor, in a sense...” she chewed on her pen, “but...I’m his supervisor...and what I technically don’t know can’t hurt either of you”

“Really?” Grell asked with a toothy grin.

Catherine waved her hand, “as long as I don’t technically know,” she laughed, winking conspiratorially.

“He’d never want me anyway,” Grell sighed, “I’m not physically a woman...”

“Hey,” Catherine poked her, “this...” she gestured to Grell’s body, “doesn’t matter...” she poked Grell’s chest, where her heart would be, “this does...your body can be altered; padded brassiere, bumroll...and anyone who is bothered that anatomically you might have extra bits can go fuck themselves because they’re not important. Anyone who loves you for who you are, won’t care what’s down there”

Grell stared at Catherine slightly open-mouthed. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes and she turned her face away, but not before Catherine saw.

“Of course,” she said cockily, wiping her eyes, “because I’m so amazing. They’ll be dazzled by my brilliant red!”

Catherine smiled to herself.

“Indeed they will,” she mused, returning to her paperwork, “now shoo. If I know William, he appreciates things done right. I imagine you’ll stand a better chance if you do your work”

Grell whined, but drew herself out of the chair. She sauntered over to the door.

“Drinks tonight?” she said gleefully, “I want to hear more about this man of yours”

Catherine laughed.

“Perhaps,” she smiled, “if we get our work done”

Grell collapsed against the doorframe with a whine.

Catherine shook her head at her friend’s antics.

Lawrence was not exactly wrong.

She may not be in love with Grell Sutcliff, but she was deeply attached.

.....

William watched Grell leave Catherine Randall’s office with a spring in her step.

William was slightly annoyed at the relationship Grell seemed to have with the Department Head.

From the beginning, Miss Randall had taken an interest in Grell. Instead of being annoyed by her antics, she seemed to find them charming. Whenever he would complain, she would speak to Grell, Grell would apologize to him, but nothing would change.

He supposed even if she were harsher, Grell would still not change. She was insolent and stubborn.

Speaking of the devil, he groaned as Grell bounded down the aisle.

“Will darling!” she skipped over, looping her arm through his. He refused to show emotion, pushing up his glasses. “Let’s get lunch, Will!” she chirped.

“I brought mine,” he tugged his arm out of her grip, ignoring the hurt that flashed in her phosphorescent eyes, “I must work, anyway”

“But Wiiiiill...”

“I’ll go with you Sutcliff-senpai,” Ronald Knox offered with a smile, “I forgot mine”

Will felt his hand clench around the doorknob of his office door.

“Oh, Ronnie, I appreciate it,” Grell said, “where shall we go? Buy me lunch?” she wheedled. Knox’s laugh reaches his ears.

“Sure why not, Grell-senpai”

“You do know how to treat a lady,” he heard Grell swoon as their voices retreated. He let the door to his office fall shut, blocking all sounds from outside.

He opened the bag he brought, pulling out a sandwich, a container of fruit, and a brownie. He studied his lunch, feeling unusually morose.

He stabbed a grape slightly more viciously than intended as he turned back to his paperwork.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lawrence Anderson makes me laugh. He needs more characterization.

Catherine peeked into Lawrence’s workshop. He was on the other end, filing down some kind of material.

She made a beeline for the newly made glasses and began to put as many on her face as possible. She managed five and one pair on her head.

She turned, staring at Lawrence until he looked up. She flashed him a peace sign.

His face pulled into an unamused expression.

“Honestly,” he grumbled, “sometimes I think you’re as juvenile as Sutcliff is...no wonder you get along”

Catherine laughed, returning the glasses to their stands.

“Your work honestly gets better each year,” she said, studying a pair. She tried them on before grimacing. Too round. “You know the only reason I still wear glasses is because you made them, right?”

“So you’ve told me,” he tried not to let it show, but Catherine had known him long enough to know even the smallest compliment on his work caused him to puff up in pride, “are you seriously going tonight?”

“Of course,” Catherine batted her lashes, trying on a different pair. She picked up another pair and froze.

“What’s up?”

“These look like his,” Catherine murmured.

“Same line,” Lawrence took them from her hand, “why have you been thinking about him so much?”

“Grell...Grell is in love. It reminds me of back then”

Lawrence ran his hand along the dark frames. Catherine could see the sorrow in his eyes.

Sometimes she forgot he had lost his dearest friend, and the man he was in love with too.

Catherine took the glasses from him, covering his hand with hers before setting them down.

“Buy me a drink,” she took his hand, tugging him out of his workshop.

“It’s noon!”

“So?”

Lawrence sighed, but did not protest. She felt a rush of warmth and gratitude towards him.

“Hey,” she bumped his shoulder, “you’re my favorite”

He huffed, but two spots of color appeared high on his cheeks.

“I guess I’m rather fond of you too,” he looked away.

Catherine snorted.

“Stuffpuff”

“That’s not even a word”

.....

After lunch, the office was abuzz.

“Did anyone besides Senior Sutcliff get the list? I hear it’s a big one!”

“No,” Ronald blinked, “not that I know of”

“I don’t want to do this on my owwwn,” Grell whined, brandishing the To-Die List, “look! There’s like a hundred names on this! How can I do this alooone?” she melted against her desk, wallowing in her misery.

“You won’t,” a voice rang out. Catherine stepped into the working area, her death scythe towering over her. The surrounding reapers scrambled. They rarely encountered the Department Head,” I will be going”

“Senior Randall!”

“Oh, don’t,” she grimaced, “just Catherine. Or Miss Randall, if you must. Senior makes me sound like a geriatric. I might be old, but I’m not that old,” she tapped her scythe.

They stared at it.

“She has an original!”

“How long ago was that?”

“It’s an actual scythe!”

“You’re going?” Grell asked in surprise, to her knowledge, Catherine had not been in the field for half a century.

“I am,” she inclined her head, “I don’t want to get rusty...” she smirked, “or let any of you young’uns beat my record,” she winked.

“You say you’re not old but then call us young’uns!” Ronald laughed jokingly. The reapers all fell silent in horror. Ronald lost all color in his face. Grell had to bite back her laughter. She wanted to watch him squirm.

Catherine regarded him for a few minutes and then snorted.

“Let me guess,” she pretended to think, “you are Miss Sutcliff’s junior?”

“Y-yes ma’am...” he said meekly.

“I like you. But don’t call me ma’am”

“Yes Miss Randall!” he practically saluted, flushing red.

Grell rolled her eyes at her subordinate who was looking embarrassed.

“Be ready to depart at 3pm,” Catherine said, “meet me in my office so we can go over a plan, this one is going to require infiltration”

“Of course!” Grell sang out, blowing a kiss.

“Wow Senior Sutcliff,” Margaret whispered, “you’re going to work with Catherine Randall!” she said, “I’m a little jealous”

“How did you become friends with the Department Head?” George asked curiously, “I’ve heard she’s powerful!”

“Some say she’s one of the original reapers!” Arthur blinked, “I would give anything to see her in action...you’ll have to tell us everything Senior Sutcliff!”

Grell preened at the attention.

To be fair, she was not entirely sure why Catherine connected with her.

But she appreciated it.

.....

3pm rolled around and Grell bounded into Catherine’s office.

“Rea~dy!” she sent up her trademark hand gesture.

“Good,” Catherine turned from the window, “so, it’s a ball,” Grell practically squealed, “it is expected that the rogue demon who has been causing us so many problems will be present, hunting...as such, we’re going to be attending the ball,” she opened her drawer, “I secured the invitations”

“A ball!” Grell swooned, “gorgeous dresses, handsome men...”

Catherine laughed softly, “don’t get carried away just yet...but do follow me back to my flat, I have a surprise for you”

Grell was curious.

“What is it?”

“If I told you, would it be a surprise anymore?”

Grell pouted.

The older reaper smiled charmingly, “let’s go”

.....

Catherine’s flat was, surprisingly, not that far from her own.

“Here we are,” Catherine unlocked the door. Grell peered around. Her first impression was cozy. The hall had a long rug, the wall sconces lit it with a warm glow. The walls were painted a pale pink.

“Make yourself at home,” Catherine smiled, “I’m going to change real quick”

Grell nodded, glancing around at her surroundings. She wandered into the living room. The couch looked well-loved, the burgundy rug soft under her feet. A coffee table sat in front of the couch.

Against the window was a table with two chairs.

She wandered over to the bookshelf. Lots of books on everything. She picked out a book on human anatomy. It looked well-read.

Huh.

She wandered over to the fireplace. The photo on the mantle catching her attention. She picked it up and looked at it.

It was a picture of a much younger Catherine, Lawrence without the grey in his hair, and the third person in the photo had been covered over by a piece of paper. It was beneath a sheet of glass in a wooden frame.

Grell picked it up. She was itching to see the third person. She was trying to figure out how to remove the glass when Catherine emerged from the other room.

She quickly set it down and turned to look at her friend. Her jaw dropped.

Grell was slightly envious. The other woman had a lovely figure; full breasts, round hips only accentuated by the bustle of her gown; mostly black with hints of dark purple. She never would have guessed the older reaper was hiding such a figure beneath the standard, shapeless black suit.

“I have something for you,” Catherine smiled, holding out a box. Grell took it curiously and opened it. Inside was a brassiere, but different than any other brassiere that she had ever seen. This brassiere had pads of fabric sown into it.

Grell was in awe.

“It’s a little crude...” Catherine said, “but it will hold up”

“This...” she fingered the fabric, “this is amazing”

“Of course the dress will have to have a slightly higher neckline...but it should work...” she motioned for Grell to follow her.

Grell was still in a daze as she followed Catherine to her bedroom.

A red and black gown with a full skirt and ruffles was on a mannequin. To Grell’s amusement, it was an anatomical model of a torso and head. But she was soon distracted by the dress.

It was beautiful. The entirety of the dress was red and the lining was black. It had a full skirt and a bustle.

It was beautiful.

“Catherine...”

The elder reaper shrugged, “we’re close enough to the same size”

“This was yours?” Grell asked, running her hand down the fabric.

“Many years ago,” she laughed, “now it’s yours if you would like”

“Absolutely!” Grell gasped.

“Let me help you put it on...turn around”

Catherine laced the brassiere before helping Grell into the full red gown. She cinched it closed with the black ribbon. Grell looked in the mirror and was amazed. The neckline of the gown was low enough to intrigue but not low enough to reveal her lack of breasts. The padded brassiere rounding her chest. It was not a voluptuous chest like in her dreams, but it fit well with her body.

This is how she should always have looked. She stared at herself in the mirror. Turning and admiring her chest from different angles.

She was perfect.

“I’m not good at makeup,” Catherine laughed, pulling her out of her admiration of herself, “I don’t think I’ve ever worn any”

“That is my forte, sweetheart,” Grell batted her eyelashes, “leave it to me,” she smiled, pulling out the makeup bag she carried everywhere with her. Catherine regarded it curiously. “Makeover!” she sang.

Catherine eyed the makeup tubes warily as Grell brandished an eyelash curler.

Half an hour later, Grell put the finishing touches on her own makeup and Catherine was finishing up her hair; apparently it was naturally curly. She swept half of it up in a curled bun, the rest falling just above her elbows in soft ringlets.

Catherine helped Grell curl her hair, twisting it, pinning it. She tugged several red strands loose to frame her face.

“Lovely,” Catherine smiled.

Grell looked in the mirror. She looked like a princess; her long red hair had been braided into a half-crown, the remaining strands had been curled and left loose.

“I’ve never had a girl friend,” Catherine admitted. Grell looked at her, “it’s kind of nice to be able to get dressed and do makeup with someone,” she smiled warmly.

“Yeah, it is,” Grell stared at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized her own reflection, yet it felt like she had always looked like that. It was familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.

Grell hooked her chainsaw beneath her skirts, strapping it to her leg. It was not the most comfortable, but it also was not visible.

“How are you going to carry around your scythe?” Grell asked curiously.

Catherine laughed, “it’s a talent you will probably learn eventually...” she held out a silver cane adorned with carved roses on top. Grell’s jaw dropped.

“Teeeach meee!” she pleaded, grabbing Catherine’s arm, “of course it would have to be red”

Catherine laughed, “in due time,” she turned to look for something on her desk, frowning slightly. “I guess I forgot...we have to go back to the office,” Catherine said, shuffling through the papers on her desk, “I need to get an important piece of paperwork”

To the office? Dressed like this?

Grell glanced down. Anticipation fluttered in her chest.

She would knock them dead.

.....

They reached the office. They had most definitely received several appreciative stares. Grell had fluttered her eyelashes at the many adoring men.

Grell felt a slight curl of apprehension as they entered the building.

The reapers still in the office turned to stare.

Eric Slingby’s jaw was practically on the floor. Margaret was staring at her in shock. She felt her heart flutter as she realized Will was also among the reapers in the main area.

“Wow Grell-senpai!” Ronald said, bounding over, “you look amazing!”

“You...look very nice indeed,” Will said, clearing his throat.

Grell was slightly disappointed. She had hoped for a better reaction.

“Holy shit,” her junior peered at her newfound chest, “how did that...?” he gestured.

“Ronald,” she smacked him with her fan before fluttering it, “you should never speak about a lady’s assets”

“Alright,” Catherine emerged from down the hall, “got it”

They all turned to stare at their superior. Usually she was dressed in the same drab, formless suit as all the reapers, hair pulled into a regulation braid.

“Shall we,” she held out her arm. Grell took it, fluttering her fan in Will and Ronald’s direction. Ronald looked stunned. Will had on his usual indecipherable expression.

Grell found herself more disappointed at his lack of reaction.

Even looking like a woman, she still could not get his attention.

She suddenly felt less confident as she followed Catherine into the warm night air.

.....

Grell was transfixed at the beautiful decorations. The beautiful people.

She suddenly felt out of her element.

But that only lasted a brief second. She belonged here, with her brassiere, she could do anything.

The ballroom was large, ceiling high and arched. Soft music came from the four-man ensemble. People were mingling, conversing, eating.

Grell made a beeline for the food table while Catherine followed. She sampled a little bit of everything before deciding on a tart and a small roll.

“Alright,” Catherine hummed, flipping through her To-Die list, “looks like we’ve got a busy night” she tapped her cane idly, “that’s a lot of souls...should be interesting enough,” she opened her fan, “it’s been awhile since I’ve had fun,” she smiled slyly.

Grell knew there was a reason she was fond of Catherine. She laughed.

“Ronnie dear would complain about overtime,” Grell said with a heavy sigh, stealing another tart, “now I can’t say I enjoy the overtime, but I do so love the red,” she swooned into Catherine who caught her.

“Overtime in the field is far more satisfying than overtime sitting behind a desk,” Catherine laughed, “even worse when you delegate-“

She froze, eyes wide. Grell looked at her curiously. She followed her line of sight.

Undertaker was standing across the room, his eyes were hidden behind his bangs, but Grell could tell he was looking at them.

Grell made a move to greet him. Even though he had scratched her face, he had always treated her like a lady, had always called her a lady. She was stopped by a hand on her arm.

“Let’s move over here...” Catherine gestured. Grell followed, looking slightly confused. She glanced back only to see Undertaker was no longer anywhere in sight.

Odd.

What was he even doing here?

The floor manager, a short and stout balding man approached them, wiping the sweat from his brow. He was accompanied by a tall handsome man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Miss,” the floor manager bowed to Grell, “Mr. Reginald King would like the honor of dancing this quadrille with you”

Grell fluttered her fan, her face flushing red.

“Miss Sutcliff,” she curtsied, “and I would be honored”

She glanced at Catherine who sent her a warm smile, winking at her.

“You look lovely,” he complimented.

“Why thank you,” Grell practically purred. She adored being fawned over.

”Red is a lovely color”

“It’s the color of love, of romance,” she leaned against him, “of passion,” she purred in his ear. She saw him flush, his interest stirring in his pants.

“M-my lady, you should not be saying such things...” he said, flustered.

“Oh but why not, my pet?” she cooed, “nobody can hear but us”

He swallowed thickly.

She caught sight of Catherine again. The other woman was speaking to Undertaker. She looked slightly upset, but it was always difficult to tell what Undertaker was thinking.

The song ended and the man escorted her back to the table. Grell was pleased at the tenting in his pants, knowing she had been the one responsible.

Catherine glanced at Grell, said something quickly to Undertaker, clearly dismissively, and approached her.

Undertaker trailed behind her, looking strangely like a lost puppy.

“Hello my lady,” Undertaker swept his hat off his head, “you are a vision in red”

“I know,” Grell grinned cheekily, “of course I am! What are you doing here?”

“The Lord and Lady of the House are repeat clients,” he giggled, “they are quite appreciative of my services...I came for the food”

Repeat clients? Grell wondered just how many people the lord and lady buried.

Catherine glanced at the watch she had hidden among the layers of crinoline.

“Ten minutes,” she frowned.

“Then perhaps,” Undertaker said, “you would like to dance?” he held out his hand.

Catherine’s eyes fell on his hand, she looked strangely upset.

“I...” she faltered, Grell pushed her towards him, “very well,” she took his hand but not before glaring darkly at Grell who waggled her fingers. He guided her into the crowd as a waltz began. Grell hummed to herself.

She idly wondered how Undertaker and Catherine knew each other. Clearly it was a fraught relationship.

Had they been friends? Lovers?

The idea of Undertaker having a lover was absurd and oddly disturbing.

Lover.

Her thoughts turned towards Will. Classmates, roommates...she was pretty sure they had been friends once.

At least, she hoped.

And now?

Will spent more time chastising her than anything. He never smiled at her anymore. If anything, he acted as if her very presence was a blight.

After he had been promoted, he spent more time at work. He had never been prone to smiling, but after his promotion, they were even scarcer.

Before his promotion, he would at least roll his eyes, or say something sarcastic in response.

Now he simply ignored her or was downright mean.

She tried to pretend it did not bother her, she would laugh it off with a flirtatious remark or a flutter of her eyelashes, but it always hurt more than she would like to admit.

She had been in love with Will for longer than she would like to admit.

Perhaps it had been always.

She was pulled from her reminiscing, glancing up to see Undertaker and Catherine returning.

Catherine was not even looking at him.

Grell was beginning to get the feeling the animosity was primarily one-sided.

“I wish Will were here to dance with me,” Grell swooned into Catherine’s arms, trying to lighten the tension, “or my darling Sebas-chan~”

The older reaper laughed.

“Perhaps next time,” Catherine held a gloved finger to her lips with a wink. She glanced at the watch again.

“Ooh,” Grell gleefully exclaimed, “almost time!”

The doors opened and everyone turned to look. Three tall men entered the room with guns and began indiscriminately firing.

“Time to go,” Catherine said. The elegant cane she carried with her glowed a pale green before transforming into a long curved scythe.

Grell grinned gleefully as she hiked up her skirts and unhooked her chainsaw.

She caught sight of Undertaker laughing.

She recalled his death scythe being nearly identical to the one Catherine wielded with precision and an unusual elegance.

Another piece of their odd puzzle.

But Grell did not dwell on this anymore as she jumped into the mass of people with a gleeful sound, completing her job as red splattered her beautiful dress.

.....

By the end of the shift, they were exhausted. Grell was simultaneously invigorated by the bloodshed and wanting to sleep for hours, preferably with an attractive man.

She noted Undertaker watching from above, his own death scythe at the ready. He had stepped in to assist when it became apparent it would be too overwhelming for just the pair of active reapers.

Eventually it was just the three of them.

“That was eventful,” he laughed, “it has been quite awhile...I can’t say I miss it much...” he glanced at Catherine, “not as much as I miss you”

“Stop this!” Catherine snapped. The unusual outburst startling Grell, “stop trying to weasel your way back into my life...you left!” she hissed.

“I wanted you to come with me,” he held her hands in his, “I asked you to come with me”

Catherine pulled her hands away, retrieving her death scythe.

“I made the mistake of loving you,” she said carefully. Grell could see the physical pain her words caused in the ex-shinigami, even through his bangs, “I won’t make the mistake of allowing you to hurt me again,” she said, transforming her scythe back into a cane. “Let’s go Grell,” she gestured.

“I never meant to hurt you, Kitten. I loved you then, and I have never stopped”

Grell stared open-mouthed. Her brain unable to process the thought.

“Let’s go!” she grabbed Grell’s hand and practically dragged her out of the room.

Grell was still processing by the time they reached Catherine’s flat, she had barely figured things out.

“U-Undertaker!?” Grell yelped, “the man you were telling me about was Undertaker?”

“I knew him by a different name,” she said with a heavy sigh, “but...yes”

“Why!?”

Catherine laughed.

“He wasn’t always so...odd. Well, maybe, but it was less obvious...” she stared out the window, “I was so in love, I thought he was too...he acted like it...but then one day he removed his glasses, announced he was leaving, and disappeared...leaving me behind”

Grell shook her head. This was insane.

Granted, Undertaker was a physically attractive man, even though his personality was extremely off-putting.

She glanced at Catherine who looked troubled.

That was when it really hit her.

“You still love him”

“That obvious?” she said wryly.

“Very much so,” Grell laughed, “a woman knows when someone is in love”

“Apparently not,” Catherine sighed, tracking a bat with her gaze. “I was deceived”

Grell opened her mouth, but Catherine was already halfway down the hallway.

“I don’t think you were,” she said softly.

Grell found herself sitting in the chair Catherine had vacated. She stared out the window, thinking about the tragic love story of Undertaker and Catherine.

Friends, lovers, heartbreak, strangers...

William...

She blinked away the tears that she did not realize had fallen.

The more she compared the two situations, the more similarities appeared, the less she liked it.

A cautionary tale perhaps?

She could not let her and Will end up like that. The very thought hurt her chest, she held her hand to it.

A woman’s heart, forever broken, never to be mended.

She swooned in her chair.

How tragic.

She slammed her fist against the table.

“I will never let that happen to me and my dear William!” she exclaimed, holding her hands to her heart, “I must rekindle our love!”

“Rekindle it in the morning!” Catherine’s voice echoed from the bedroom, “it’s too late to be doing any sort of kindling”

Grell wandered into the living room, looking for a book.

She glanced at a picture over the fireplace. She knew who the third person was, but she still wanted to see it. She fumbled with the glass screen, preening when she got it loose. The paper fluttered to the ground and she glanced at the picture in it’s full glory.

Catherine was in the middle, smiling brightly. A much younger-looking Lawrence was on the right looking vaguely annoyed. They looked happy. Pops had no grey in his hair, Catherine’s was shorter, curls reaching her shoulders. Grell was amazed at how different Undertaker looked in the photo: his hair swept into a long ponytail, face lacking scars, green eyes visible and bright. He had a seemingly effortless charm. They all held similar looking death scythes: Undertaker’s skeleton crowned in thorns, Catherine’s crowned in roses, Pop’s crowned in prayer beads.

Grell ran her hand across the picture. They looked happy.

She sighed. She wondered if she had any photos with Will.

She wandered back down the hall to the guest bedroom Catherine had said she could use. She stripped down to her undergarments and flopped onto the bed.

How could she get Will’s attention? What did he like?

Well, he was so boring that that was easy; he liked punctuality, professionalism, rule-abiding.

That was when a brilliant idea struck Grell. If this idea failed, then she never stood a chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Grell looked at herself in the mirror. It had taken forever for her to find the suit in her closet. She had brushed her hair smooth, tying it back with a simple black ribbon.

She sighed. So professional. So boring.

Black, black, black.

No room for self-expression.

But if this is what it took for Will to notice her, then she would do it.

She had debated on wearing her makeup, but in the end, was unable to give that up. Instead, she put on considerably less than usual.

She checked her appearance once more. Not a hair out of place, not a speck of red other than her hair and glasses visible.

She had also debated on getting a new pair of glasses, but she was so attached to hers.

She took a breath and swept out of her flat.

.....

Grell entered the office, ignoring the startled stares she received.

“G-Grell-senpai...?” Ronald was finally the first to venture forward, “are you...alright?”

“I’m quite fine Junior Knox,” Grell inclined her head, “thank you”

“A-are you...sure?” he eked out.

“Very sure”

Ronald looked like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. He gave her a strange stare once again before sliding back into his cubicle.

Grell pulled her paperwork to her and began working.

.....

It did not take long for word to travel, apparently, because reapers from other departments were poking their heads in under some stupid pretense, and other people decided to get involved.

“Grell Sutcliff,” Catherine strode out of her office, “may I speak with you?”

“Of course Senior Randall,” she got to her feet, she knew Catherine well enough to know the elder shinigami was annoyed, even if she did not show it.

She followed Catherine to her office and shut the door.

“What in the blue hell is this?” she waved a hand at Grell.

“Senior Randall?”

“Cut the crap,” Catherine snapped, “what are you trying to accomplish?”

“I was hoping to catch Will’s attention,” Grell sighed, “be more appealing to him...you and Undertaker...it’s so sad! I don’t want that to happen to Will and I...I need to get his attention before it’s too late”

Catherine sighed.

“Is it worth losing yourself?” Catherine questioned, crossing the desk.

“I have to try”

Catherine opened her mouth. She paused and closed it with a sigh.

“Well, I hope it works for you,” she said, “just don’t lose yourself and your vibrant red personality, okay?”

Grell bowed.

“Is that all Senior Randall?”

“Call me that again and I will reap you where you stand,” Catherine said, eyes only half-joking.

“Yes Catherine”

“Good...that is all”

Grell left Catherine’s office, reflecting on her words.

Will was standing at the cubicle, talking to Eric Slingby.

This was her chance.

She returned to her desk and pulled her paperwork to her.

“Sutcliff?”

She glanced up. All the reapers in the room were staring at her as if she had a contagion. “Senior Spears,” she said, ignoring the stares, “may I help you?”

Will pushed his glasses up.

“No,” he said, “just get your paperwork done”

“Yes sir,” Grell said. Will paused, as if he wanted to say something, but nodded and left.

“Grell-senpai,” Ronald wheeled his chair around to her, peering into her cubicle, “is this some joke you’re playing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Junior Knox,” she said, “and you would probably do best to get back to work before Senior Spears says something”

Ronald looked like somebody had slapped him with a dead fish.

“Uh...right...” he said, wheeling his chair back to his cubicle.

Grell sighed.

Will had said nothing, he had not even acknowledged her new appearance.

Oh well. She would just have to try harder.

The day went on smoothly and uneventfully. Boring. Grell shuffled her paperwork. She was a little pleased with herself for having been so productive. It was nice to know she actually could be a proper reaper if she wanted to.

She knocked on Will’s office door, taking a breath.

“Enter”

She pushed open the door. Will looked up, his eyes widening in surprise for a brief second.

“Sutcliff”

“Spears,” Grell approached the desk, “my paperwork for the day”

She watched Will regard the neatly clipped and ordered papers.

He cleared his throat, “thank you...Sutcliff”

Grell nodded and turned to leave.

“Sutcliff”

“Yes Senior Spears?” Grell turned to face him, anticipation building in her chest.

“...good job”

She felt disappointment wash over her.

“Thank you. I will see you tomorrow”

“See you tomorrow”

Grell left his office feeling dejected and depressed.

Her flat was not far from the office. As she opened the door, she felt herself begin to cheer up at the red interior.

She changed into her brightest red lingerie, twirling in front of her mirror.

Ah, how she had missed red.

But Grell was nothing if not stubborn. She would get her man. She just needed time.

She snuggled into her red sheets. Catherine’s words flitted through her mind, unbidden.

_“Just don’t lose yourself and your vibrant red personality, okay?”_


	5. Chapter 5

Grell sighed, staring at herself in the mirror. Another day of black and boring.

It would be worth it. She just had to keep reminding herself why she was doing this.

Will.

The reaction to her new appearance had not changed.

Ronald still looked at her like he was worried she was going to explode.

Eric and Alan stared at her like she had grown another head.

Arthur and Anne whispered with Margaret and George, casting not so furtive concerned and confused glances her direction.

Grell ignored it all and focused on her work.

She saw Catherine pass through. The other shinigami scattered and at the very least pretended to work in front of the Department Head.

Catherine rarely left her office and Grell sighed to herself. So the elder reaper was still concerned.

She pushed these thoughts from her mind as she went about her day.

.....

Another successful day. The novelty was beginning to wear off.

The one concession besides her glasses that she did leave was her death scythe. It was her baby and it was regulation, so it should pose no problem.

She gathered her papers together, signed them, stamped them, clipped them.

Perfect.

Everything was perfect.

And absolutely boring.

She got to her feet and knocked on Will’s office door.

“Enter”

Grell opened it. Will looked up, a flash of something crossed his face, disappearing almost as fast as it appeared.

“Here is my paperwork,” she said, handing it to him.

“Sutcliff. Are you feeling well?”

“Fine, Senior Spears”

She noted the vein by his temple throb.

“Very well,” he pushed up his glasses, “have a nice night”

“See you tomorrow,” Grell said, leaving his office. She felt strangely hollow as she made the trip back to her flat.

Once the door was closed, she looked around and burst into tears.

.....

“Alright, that’s the twentieth origami lily you’ve made in the past hour and the sixtieth you’ve made since you got here,” Lawrence huffed, setting his work down, “tell me what’s bothering you before you destroy a whole forest and I am forced to buy more paper. Requisitions doesn’t like that”

Catherine sighed, running her hand through her hair.

“It’s Grell”

“What has she done now?”

“It’s what she hasn’t done,” Catherine looked morose, “she’s been a perfect reaper”

“And that...bothers you?” Lawrence asked in disbelief. His best friend was a mental case for sure.

“It’s not Grell! She’s gone weird trying to impress William and get his attention”

“William? The kid you promoted to manager of Retrieval?”

“Yes. They were classmates and apparently friends and Grell has been in love with him for who knows how long!” Catherine pouted, reaching for another paper. Lawrence confiscated the stack, putting them in the safety of his drawer. He turned to look at her. He knew her well enough to know she was going to explode into a rant in 3...2...1...

“It’s ridiculous!”

Without fail.

“I don’t know why she feels the need to change her fundamental being just to impress a man! She even took off her red nail polish because it’s against regulation! She doesn’t have a shred of red on her save for her hair and her glasses! I suppose I should consider the fact she kept her scythe a good thing...but Grell is smothering herself. If he won’t notice her for who she is, then he’s not worth it! If the only way to get him to notice her is by changing pretty much everything about her, then that’s already a problem, not a good way to start a relationship”

Lawrence waited until he was sure her rant was over.

“Done?” he asked. Catherine nodded. “Did something happen to start this?”

Catherine sighed, “she says she doesn’t want to end up like me and...” she cut herself off and shook her head.

“I doubt anybody can reach that level of dysfunction...” he laughed, she sent him a rude gesture, “does Sutcliff know the entire story?”

“Some of it,” she shrugged, “not all of it”

“As far as Sutcliff and Spears, well, you can’t get involved”

“Why not?” Catherine frowned, “she needs help!”

“Catherine,” he said firmly, “you can’t baby Sutcliff forever. She is a grown m-woman...” he still had not completely gotten used to using feminine pronouns, but he was learning. It was better than being on the receiving end of one of his best friend’s lethal stares, “she can take care of herself and make her own decisions”

“Well...can she? What if they’re bad decisions that she can’t see as being bad decisions!”

“Everyone has to make their own bad decisions...that’s the only way they learn”

“I...”

“No,” he held up his hand, “I know Sutcliff is not stupid by any stretch of the imagination, she’ll figure it out eventually. And you would be doing her a disservice by not allowing her to make these mistakes”

Catherine had her chin resting on her arms and was clearly pouting, but he was at least glad she seemed to be chewing on his words. She toyed with the pile of origami lilies. Lawrence peered at them distastefully.

“Don’t leave those here,” he said mildly. Catherine gave him an unimpressed look. He shrugged and went back to his work.

She stayed a few minutes longer before getting to her feet. She had an armful of origami lilies and he nodded his gratitude as she left.

He reached up to grab a screwdriver and his eyes were drawn to the single origami lily sitting in the middle of the desk to perfect to be unintentional.

He sighed, smiling to himself. He picked it up and set it on the shelf of his desk next to an origami frog gifted to him decades ago by someone else he cared deeply about.

.....

A week had passed.

Grell was incredibly impressed by herself. She had managed to be a perfect reaper for an entire week. Punctual to work, professional, reaps performed in a timely manner, no performance complaints. The others had even stopped staring at her like she was a leper.

But to no avail.

Will was just as unimpressed as always.

At least he stopped chastising her.

It was Friday and she was ready to go home for the weekend. She could surround herself in her red flat, lounge about in as much red as she wished.

No more black and white.

She glanced at her desk thoughtfully, the red lily catching her eyes.

Someone had dumped an absurd amount of origami lilies in the break room. She had stolen one and kept it on her desk.

A small splash of red.

A small rebellion.

She shuffled her papers and clipped them. She was one of the last ones there. Catherine was still there, she could see the light from under her door.

The brunette seemed troubled by something. Grell wondered whether it was because of her or if it had anything to do with Undertaker.

Of course Will was still here. She was pretty sure he even worked weekends.

But everybody else had pretty much taken off.

She sighed, feeling morose as she approached Will’s office.

She knocked on the door.

“Enter”

Grell steeled herself, pushed the door open and entered.

“Here’s my paperwork,” she said in a monotone, putting it down on his desk. She did not meet his eyes, “have a good weekend Senior Spears,” Grell said tiredly, turning to leave.

“Sutcliff,” he said. She turned back, too tired to particularly care. “What happened?”

“Happened?”

Will got to his feet, “not that I don’t...appreciate...how much easier you’ve made my job. But what happened?”

The frustration that had been simmering in Grell all week reached a boiling point.

“What happened!?” she said, “what happened, William!? I’ll tell you WHAT HAPPENED!” his eyes widened at her outburst, “I wanted to impress you is what happened! And now I realize what a foolish hope that was! I realize that you will never care for me the way I care for you,” tears spilled down her cheeks, “in case you haven’t noticed, let me spell it out for you...darling,” she said sarcastically, “I love you. I love you enough to change for you,” she gestured, “I love you enough to become someone I’m not in the hope that just once you might look at me with something other than...contempt!” she laughed helplessly, “but it’s useless,” she shook her head and forcefully yanked open the door, “have a good weekend Senior Spears,” she spat, slamming the door hard enough she was pretty sure the frame splintered.

“Grell!” she heard a startled voice call.

Catherine.

She did not want to deal with the pitying stare of the other woman.

She was hardly aware of her surroundings as she returned to her flat on autopilot.

Not even the familiar red surroundings were enough to soothe the pain that felt like it was crushing her chest.

She fell to her knees and cried until her tears were gone. She curled up in her front hallway, too tired to go any further and fell asleep there

.....

Catherine was staring in disbelief, death scythe hanging limply at her side.

She had been organizing her older files when she heard a raised voice.

Concerned that something had happened, she had grabbed her death scythe. Despite no longer doing much field work, she kept it on her. She was far too attached to it.

She had dashed into the hallway only to see Grell Sutcliff slamming the door to the office of William T. Spears. Catherine stared at her, mouth agape.

“Grell!”

The younger reaper either did not hear her or decided to ignore her as she dashed out of the building.

Catherine approached William’s office, opening the door.

The poor boy was standing at his desk looking like he had just seen the entire London Opera dance the cancan naked.

“Might I enquire as to what just happened?” Catherine blinked.

“A-ah...Senior Randall!” William jumped, flustered beyond belief, Catherine would have been amused if not for the circumstances.

“Well?”

“I...I’m not sure, ma’am,” William looked confused, “Gr-Sutcliff just...I’m really not sure”, he was very obviously rattled, “I asked her about her change”

Catherine sighed.

“I see, and I take it she told you?” he nodded wordlessly, “and?” she gestured with her scythe.

“I didn’t know she felt that way,” he said quietly, “I don’t know what to do”

“Do you feel the same?”

It was funny, seeing the normally stoic and unemotional reaper turn a bright shade of red.

The favored color of Grell Sutcliff, she thought wryly.

“My recommendation, William Spears,” she tilted her head, “fix it...have a good weekend”

He nodded, too stunned to speak.

Catherine sighed once the door closed behind her.

Young love.

She felt a pang in her stomach at the memory that tried to surface.

She squashed it. Hard.

.....

Grell was unsure how long she had slept on the floor. It was very uncomfortable and her neck was sore, but she felt marginally better.

She remembered her outburst and wiggled in embarrassment.

How ever would she face Will on Monday?

Maybe she should pull an Undertaker and retire.

But she so loved reaping souls.

She sighed, getting to her feet. She glanced at her clock. It was midnight.

She moved towards her bedroom on autopilot. Not even the prospect of her red nightgown able to excite her.

Catherine had been right.

She curled up under her blankets, staring blankly at the wall.

She would just pretend nothing had happened. That was it.

She would give up on getting Will to reciprocate.

She heard a knock on her door. She glared. Who would be calling on her at midnight? Whoever it was could come back in the morning she huffed, pulling her blankets tighter around herself and sinking into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Grell had slept late. Her clock telling her it was one in the afternoon. She stretched. Her stomach rumbled and she sighed, getting out of her bed.

She wandered her way towards her kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

“You finally wake up”

Grell yelped, smashing her knee into the chair. She whirled around to see Will sitting on her sofa, holding a book.

“WILL! You should never sneak up on a lady!” she tugged her dressing gown tighter around her body, “what in the Creator’s name are you doing here!?” she felt her anger boil over, “you can’t just leave me alone!?”

“I could,” he got to his feet, “but I think we need to clear some things up”

.....

William realized maybe letting himself in the night before was not a good idea.

But Grell looked radiant in red: her dressing gown drawn tightly over her slender frame, her long red hair falling around her, messy with sleep. Her face flushed red in anger.

“Grell,” he began, carefully choosing his words. He was so far out of his depth, he was unable to swim. “After...after yesterday,” he cleared his throat anxiously, “I perhaps owe you an explanation”

Grell’s eyes narrowed.

“I must admit I was...unaware...of your feelings for me”

“How could you be unaware!?” Grell exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air, “it’s not like I don’t make it obvious every time you’re within ten feet!”

“You don’t!” William finally snapped, “you flirt with everyone. Including that... _filthy demon_ ,” he spat, “how was I supposed to know that your flirtations meant any more than any of your others?”

Grell fell silent. She looked away.

“It made me furious to see you fawning all over that demon,” William sighed, “he doesn’t even treat you kindly. Granted, I know I’m not much better...but dammit Grell. I care for you”

Grell froze.

“I care for you so much...” William was too afraid of the ‘L’ word to use it in such an uncertain arena, “and...I was unaware you felt the same way. I am sorry for my...indifference...but please, stop wearing that stupid suit”

“I thought you liked the stupid suit,” Grell said, expression hidden behind her hair.

“I do,” he said, “but not on you. I only like red on you. Your behavior this past week...has made me realize that while, yes, you are a nuisance and you make my life infinitely more difficult, you also make it more interesting. You add...a splash of color to my life I didn’t realize I was missing”

Grell sighed. She glided forward. He watched her slightly apprehensively, “I was wearing the suit for you...I had hoped you would notice me if I was a proper reaper”

William felt his heart drop to his toes.

“I would much rather you just be Grell,” he said simply. They were face to face. “The red nuisance I fell in love with”

“Oh William!” she threw her arms around his neck, knocking him backwards, “I’m so, so happy!”

He smiled and removed her arms from around his neck. She looked at him, confused and hurt. He took a steady breath, before leaning in and kissing her firmly.

He felt her start in surprise, but return the kiss. She practically melted into him. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist, holding her close against him as he licked into her mouth, avoiding those dangerous teeth.

Grell let out a muffled whimper and pressed closer.

He was unsure how long they had stayed like that, kissing, when Grell pulled away.

“It...it doesn’t bother you that I have...” she gestured.

“No,” he took her hand, “that doesn’t make you who you are,” a flash of mischief washed over him, “besides, we can still have just as much fun”

“Oh William!” Grell tittered, blushing in surprise, “I was unaware you had such a naughty streak!”

 _So was I_ he thought, but did not say.

“Shall we figure out just exactly what we can do?” he asked, offering her his hand. Grell took it. He missed her red nails.

“Lead the way,” she purred, a sound shooting straight to his groin as he led her down the hall to her bedroom.

.....

Monday rolled around and Grell felt happier than she had in decades. She studied herself in the mirror.

Red, red, red.

She hummed as she busied herself brushing her hair.

She had spent the entire weekend with Will. The man was absolutely full of surprises. Grell still blushed thinking about some of the things he had done to her.

“Please don’t wear that suit,” he had said as he left Sunday evening.

She had tried to get him to stay, but he was adamant about “not on a Monday” and that he would see her tomorrow, bright and early.

Never mind the chaste little kiss he had given her before he left.

He was a contradiction.

She practically skipped down the hall, grabbing her chainsaw as she headed in to the office.

.....

“Grell-senpai!” Ronald said, surprised, “you’re...” he gestured, “red again!”

“Yes, well,” she flipped her hair, “couldn’t afford to let you poor dears get too bored,” she winked, “after all, this is such a dreary establishment,” she settled in her chair.

The other reapers looked relieved and the whispering was minimal as they got back to work.

“Glad to see you back Grell-senpai,” Ronald smiled.

“Glad to be back, Ronnie dear,” Grell hummed, spinning in her chair.

.....

The day progressed much more normal. News seemed to have traveled fast again, cause other reapers were poking their heads in.

Twelve o’clock hit and everyone began to head out for lunch.

Will was emerging from the loo when Grell caught sight of him.

“Oh Wiiiiill!” Grell sang out, “take me to lunch~”

She saw Will sigh.

“Very well,” he said, the gasps of the surrounding reapers barely audible, “where would you like to go?” he held out his arm.

(Ronald breathed a sigh of relief. His wallet would be much happier)

Grell kissed Will on the cheek. He sighed again. Clearly PDA was not his thing. But that was okay, Grell could more than make up for that.

.....

Catherine watched the commotion from her office door, a smile on her face. Grell was back to her vibrant red.

Which meant... _oh hell_.

Lawrence had been right.

If Catherine had interfered, perhaps this never would have happened.

She felt a pang at her own lost chance and shut the door.

Nothing for that. All she could do was be happy that Grell and William were finally happy.

Even if it meant more paperwork for her.

She groaned at the thought.


End file.
